He has risen!

Wishing you an Easter filled with joy. xo...

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Wishing you an Easter filled with joy. xo

Resurrection

  Lord, It’s nearly Easter, yet my soul has not been stilled in meditation. My heart is not fixed on the story or significance of the day. Instead, I’ve been in chaos. Wrestling through my own beliefs, clarifying thoughts, researching and asking and debating with others. It makes me sad when I realize this has ...

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Lord,

It’s nearly Easter, yet my soul has not been stilled in meditation. My heart is not fixed on the story or significance of the day. Instead, I’ve been in chaos. Wrestling through my own beliefs, clarifying thoughts, researching and asking and debating with others. It makes me sad when I realize this has not been a season of preparation.

“Or has it?” my soul asks.

This kind of inner turmoil always results in change. In growth. It’s always worthwhile. It always sharpens my beliefs and draws me closer to You.

But it’s hard.

And that’s OK, isn’t it? Because the gospel is hard. Your message isn’t always easy to swallow. The price wasn’t paid lightly. There has to be struggle and sacrifice before there is redemption. We must surrender to You in Your wisdom and might. We have to experience darkness before the dawn. Death before resurrection.

The crushing weight of the stone before it’s rolled away to reveal the glorious open door.

O, Lord, I bow under that weight and I long for resurrection. Raise me up. Turn me into something new.

In Your unparallelled name I pray,
Amen.

The one who touched God

There was one speaker at the Festival of Faith and Writing that I didn’t see listed in the program. To be honest, I might have stayed home if I’d been aware. And that darn speaker isn’t one to be celebrated. But he was there. I listened to readings, thinking to myself, do I even have ...

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There was one speaker at the Festival of Faith and Writing that I didn’t see listed in the program. To be honest, I might have stayed home if I’d been aware.

And that darn speaker isn’t one to be celebrated. But he was there. I listened to readings, thinking to myself, do I even have one page that is good enough to stand alone, even if anyone ever wanted to hear it read out loud? I listened to talks that were so intelligent and literary that I thought, well, none of these people will ever be interested in what I have to say. There’s a small part of me that clings — stubborn as can be — to the hope that maybe, just maybe, people will see past my own words and my own failings to the One I write about. But that part was quashed down underneath lots of ugly feelings.

Anne Lamott talked about the fact that we have two speakers. We can choose which one to listen to. I had the wrong one turned up to top volume.

So as Easter approaches, during this week when the world remembers to focus on Christ, I will allow God to roll away that monstrous boulder that stands in my way. I will invite Him to inhabit my words. I will look for the folded cloth, a quiet reminder that He is coming back. I will pray for the resurrection in my heart, for new life in my soul, for a transformation of my words into something eternal.

And I will rejoice in my doubts, knowing that only one disciple got to put his hands on the Holy One. The one who refused to turn away until he was able to see for himself. The one who had the nerve to insist on experiencing Jesus personally.

Because he is the one who got to touch God.

And that, sweet Lord, is my prayer. Amen.

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